


The Saga of Mal and the Four Brownies

by under_a_grey_cloud



Category: Firefly
Genre: Other, Short and Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:17:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_a_grey_cloud/pseuds/under_a_grey_cloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal receives a gift of four chocolate brownies. Fully intending to share the shinies with his crew, he is soon down to one brownie and an edited crew. Stumped by the mathematical challenge, he ensures he won't eat the last brownie by shoving it under his bed. He is still confounded by the mathematics until another crew member stops by and helps him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Saga of Mal and the Four Brownies

**Author's Note:**

> This entire piece is an email to a friend who mailed me four brownies. She was worried they might be too dry. thought it would be fun to publish. Also I love any excuse for firefly-speak.
> 
> I also love Supernatural and Dotor Who in the good old Tenth Doctor days, and might someday write a Tenth Doctor/Mal crossover, or perhaps a CastiMal (?)
> 
> I am currently writing and posting a Destiel story, in case anyone is interested.

"So, I thought they went down easy on the gullet, but they could have been a mite chewier and they'd have still gone down just as fine. Don't happen to me very often, woman, but you went and made me feel selfish. Course they were addressed to Malcom Reynolds, but a good captain shares his shinies to keep his crew happy.

 

"So. Four brownies, take away the one I ate, and you got yourself a seven-man crew and three brownies. Well, make that two brownies. They're awful shiny, and I'm just a man. So, we got a crew of seven. Heck, Wash and Zoë are married, they can share. That's five people and two brownies, according to my reckoning. Go ahead and make that one gorram brownie. Ain’t never tasted anything to close to Heaven this side of the ‘Verse.’

 

" Now we got us one brownie gotta divide up five ways. Let's see. That’s three an’ four, cut the three into three, four cut into four, no, that ain’t right. Gorram math.

 

“One brownie divided into five equal parts is 0.14285714 brownies per person. I don’t know how you’d divide up a brownie using only the tools you have in the kitchen. I could use Simon’s medical tools but he’d kill me.”

 

“Hey little miss brain box. What exactly are you doing in my room here without an invite? Without even knocking, for gorram’s sake. I coulda been doing anything.”

 

“But you weren’t. You were pathetically trying to divide one brownie into five equal pieces. Which is all but impossible using the available tools. I know you’ve got one brownie left because you look slightly green enough to have eaten three, but you're not bent over the sink, so you didn’t eat the fourth.”

 

“How in the ‘Verse did you know that? Your brain that big? How’d you reckon that?”

 

“There's an open box on your floor with an international mailing form saying contents: four brownies. The last brownie is sticking our from under your bed.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“So here’s the situation as I see it. (a) no one in their right mind would want to eat a brownie that’s been under Mal's bed, (b) it’s nigh unto impossible to cut the remaining brownie into five equal pieces using the tools on this ship, and (c) the food on this ship tastes worse than dirty socks anyway.

 

“So I recommend we share the brownie under your bead.”

 

“I apologize, m’am. Seems I seriously misjudged your usefulness on my crew. As captain, I approve your decision.”

 

“You have brownie on your chin already.”

 

“Shut your mouth hole and eat.”

 


End file.
